


Death and Cats

by TwilightsDawn



Series: Death and Cats Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cats are still cute, Death never learns his lessons, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Quirrell is a great teacher, and monster hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25866541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightsDawn/pseuds/TwilightsDawn
Summary: Shorts that are based on the Red CobbleStone time line from other Characters' Perspectives, Deleted scenes, and more!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Series: Death and Cats Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876519
Comments: 62
Kudos: 235





	1. Loki

**Author's Note:**

> A small birthday gift to myself.

**Loki**

They say that cats had more senses than humans, perhaps even dogs. For a dog might have known when emotions had drawn up in their human but would rush to them to be a sense of comfort. No matter the times that they were brushed aside. She liked to think that cats were better than that more dignified more fitting companions because quite plainly cats knew when to disappear and reappear when needed. They were not always appreciated for such efforts but they knew. 

Her master was a funny little thing, not that cats really had a master. Loki thought of him as a creator of things, but even so, Loki would forever feel entitled to do as she pleased, when she pleased. However, he was a strange little thing that Moon insisted on protecting with all the magic that was in him was certainly able to command the older and no less wise cat. He would toddle after his creator from a distance and keep an eye on things. He reminded Loki far too much of a dog in that regard. The second oldest Orange was more in tune with cat-like instincts and reflexes but he was just as odd in his inability not to listen to direct commands. There was Hairless Mouse, the one that had greeted her upon her rebirth with a loud strangled hiss. He had been the most normal of them, cuddled up to the master, demanding attention and comfort. Hairless acted loud and in charge, but he was far from it. Loki won any scuffles that he started. She would only have to bite at his tail and it was enough to send him running. Running straight for Creator.

Loki herself had come from a place that was dark, her last memories are of a large box speeding towards her with wheels. She watches said contraptions move below her perch at the window. The second person that had entered their world had at one point been small, tiny, and she had smelt the scent on the strange string that the creator wore. One that he was pretty insistent to keep away from prying paws. Humans were strange creatures but the Tall One as she has come to think of him smells of many emotions. Not all of them good, potent magic that is like the others, her even, but different. There are blends she supposes to his scent that make it like a magnet that she can not help but be intrigued by. Not enough to leave the creator's side, as he leaves such a being often enough for the Tall one is prone to baring teeth like Hairless, arching his back, and storming off to places. 

Tall though unlike her creator seems to need her more. Hairless Mouse has the place by his side and Tall has none. Tall does not carry any favor, nor does he give off the kindest of magical readings. She though knows that no creature can truly be alone. Even the most solitary found mates or interacted ever so briefly with others. And so Loki takes great care in jumping down from her place at the window, she struts towards the armchair and makes the graceful leap up onto the rest. She perches herself and lets out a loud Mew. It is the best way to gain a Human’s attention as they can be quite blind and deaf for things that have such large eyes and strange holes on the sides of their heads. 

Tall looks at her with a frown as he usually looks at all things with that expression. She slowly shifts herself closer pressing her head against his hand, sometimes hints were just things that he needed. He slowly brushes her head and she flicks her tail to the side assessing if this was a good place to lay. 

His brown eyes look into her green. She stares back.

“You know you are becoming a bit of an annoyance.” He says something in that rumbling voice that he had. Tall though has started to relax he is not frowning as deeply. She can feel his breathing starting to slow. So yes laying down is a good thing to accomplish. 

“Don’t think that this means that I like you.” He pauses in petting her and she bats an eye. She has no idea what Tall is trying to tell her, but his tone is soothing and therefore she starts to close her eyes. “I still have not forgiven you for destroying those curtains. I probably would not mind as much if I did not have to ask bloody Harry about fixing them.”

Loki lets out a soft purr for him to continue. He seems to really need to rumble off sound today. Which is fine she can be an ear if that will make him feel better. Hairless and the others let the creator talk to them and Loki knows that it helps him feel better, even though he mostly scolds Loki when she is in on the conversations for trying to steal tasty little morsels off of the table or out of pots and pans. He lets Hairless get away with it, but she suspects that's because he likes him best.

“I think you like destroying my things.” Tall shakes his head. His fingers stop petting along her back and he touches her ear, which of course causes her to open his eyes. Just when he had been doing so well too. It’s not like she has a lot of motivation to move though. 

He messes up the fur around her head. She mews to tell him that while this action is somewhat acceptable, that it was much better when he did other things. 

“Stupid cat.” He smiles then a little and she supposes that she can deal with slight indignity if it has won her some love points. He then goes back to his book and she lays there waiting for the opportune time to force him to take a break. 

Humans could become so fixated on things that were seemingly so unimportant. What could be better than napping, chasing mice and the strange creature with long ears, and eating the fine food off of the creator’s plate? Perhaps attention and affection were some things that were nice as well. Loki would know that the few pets she has gotten from the smaller human are nice. He thought he didn't pet her near as often as Tall. Tall likes her, of that she is certain. 

She takes a long doze next to him before making sure that he is reminded of his needs. She puts her head over the top of the book. He shoves a little at her face for it.

‘No.’ She Meows loudly, ‘you have been doing this long enough’ 

“Loki.” He reprimands. 

She plays cute, giving him big eyes and nipping at his book and fingers.

“I am not in the mood to play.” He continued to try and keep a death grip on the book. Though the only word she understood of that is play. She knows that he doesn’t seem to want that. Which is too bad because playing is exactly the type of distraction that he needs. 

She keeps placing herself all over him no matter the way that he twists. It is sort of a fun game when she thinks of it. Keep away she has not played it in ages. Not since she was a kitten and she has no idea how long ago that was. 

Finally, he concedes and she sits proudly on his lap and book.

“I hope that you are pleased with yourself.” He says petting along her chin and she leans into that. “I suppose that you will be following me to bed.

Bed. Another word that she recognizes. Yes, she would like to sleep more and she moves so that he gets up. She leads him, tail up, as she is not a dog she does not follow and sits by his door. Her tail flicks as she waits impatiently for him. Humans could be so slow. She darts in when he does turn the knob to make sure there is nothing unfriendly inside. She checks the corners and under the large nest of pillows and blankets also known as a bed. 

When she is sure that Tall and herself will be safe she then takes her place at the foot of the bed, scratching slightly the spot before laying upon it. Yes, this human was not her creator but she would choose him as he seems as lonely as her.


	2. Death

**Death**

When one is as old as the universe there is very little that surprises you. Death had been called many things, seen more, and had taken notes on what he likes to think of how things worked. There was no grand plan for how things ought to be or how things should be. It made things a bit more confusing on what exactly a being such as himself could get away with as he has a very rough memory of when he was created. Born he supposes in a sense. There had been no one sent to correct him since he had started his work, and as such he saw no reason to change or bend what he was doing. 

That does not mean that he doesn’t take up hobbies every once and a while there was always time to kill when the concept was relative and meant nothing in the long term of things. Humans really were the ones that tried to quantify something that really was more letters than it was number. Just as there were more numbers than could ever be conceived by their tiny little devices. 

Yes, he had developed a taste for the livings ability to try and live life. He found enjoyment in the early days watching their struggles like a little stage play, bending what rules he could to spy upon them and learn from them. For who had ever thought of such great things as artwork or golf? What being could ever predict quite what they would develop next? He loved the concept of cooking even though he had not much of a sense of taste. Anubis really helped him to learn how to make things correctly. 

He has accumulated a few things that he likes to spend his time doing besides cooking. He likes reading and collecting works that are lost to the tides of time, he has the first drawn stick figure to the first concept of the wheel. He likes Da Vinci and the scraps of paper that he has saved from his cutting room floor. He in a way collects souls, talking to them, seeing their memories. He just has a different way he supposes about categorizing that sort of thing than he does the artwork he places around his house. Which he prized on being well organized, tiny, and quite the vast amount of pocket dimensions for storage. He probably had things he really should get rid of. One did not need as many spears as he did from the first humans. He probably did not need as many dinosaur teeth either. Of all the things to go extinct, he thinks he misses the dotto bird and the great brachiosaurus. 

Of the many billions of years, near trillions really, of his existence, not that he is that old, he has rarely been surprised or felt foolish. But he will admit that he is rather impressed by this reincarnation of Harry Potter. He had changed Tom Riddle for the better, which was not an easy feat, fallen in love, and had altered the ability to bring about life. With the very wonderful results of the cats that he so loves. Such wonderfully constructed magical creations. It makes him feel like a parent as they were once his spirits that had been brought back into living breathing flesh. All these things are slightly surprising but they are not that startling. People fell in love and started wars over silly things, people could regret. He has seen these things come and go. 

No, what surprised him was that Harry had not asked him to cat-sit his practical children. 

**“I can’t believe that I wasn’t chosen.”** Death folded his arms as he sat on the large white sofa to his home. He was considering turning it blue, but he is not exactly in the mood to try and redecorate. 

“Is this whining about the cats again?” Anubis asks, setting down the coffee and tea tray.

**“I am a being of immense power, prestige, and grace. I do not sulk nor whine.”**

“Al Mawt, dear, you must let it go.” Anubis shook her head, her nose wrinkling slightly with annoyance. 

**“I can not let it go. I am certainly more qualified to watch creations that were made with my magic than a mortal that did not realize that conditioner exists for his very greasy hair.”**

“Now you are lowering yourself to petty insults. Say what you wish but you made the cats hunt and stood by and watched them destroy the home. I don’t have to remind you that Harry was still catching some of the mice that you let loose months later.” Anubis ignored his tone and set about making herself some coffee.” 

**“They deserved more than what we both know hides in cat food that comes from a can,”** Death states matter of factually. **“And Cats are meant to hunt, and tear things apart. They have claws and teeth for a reason.”**

“Yes but imagine if you trusted that your pets would not only be fed but well cared for while you were gone and that did not happen at all. Instead, there were mouse bits left all over and your home and it was torn apart when you returned.” She added a little milk and swirled it in before bringing the cup to her lips. 

**“It would be only a swift few spells to fix.”** Death shook his head. **“They needed the exercise and nutrients straight from the source…”** He trailed off. Such things Harry did not have time for, and it did take quite the effort to catch all the mice to start the hunt. **“I see now why he did not ask me.”**

“Do you now, my friend?” She sits across from him and raises an eyebrow.

 **“Yes he is simply testing to see if there are others capable of taking care of such things should I be unavailable.”** Death sits up, Harry did have the concept of time after all very trained into his head. Death could be all places at once. 

“I thought that it might be because of the other things that I already mentioned.” Anubis rolled her eyes and he chose to ignore her way of making fun of him. 

He stands calling his traveling cloak to him, **“I think I shall just check-in.”**

She shakes her head. “Whatever it is you say. I will keep the tea warm for you when you inevitably return disappointed.”

Death shook his head. She had such low faith in him sometimes. 

~/*\~

Death easily crossed the house wards, he never had to worry about such things, but Harry’s were the strongest that there were. He really was taking no chances with anything ever making it in uninvited. Death needed no such invitation. He made sure to be in human guise. The cats reacted better to him then, even Voldie was calmed in the presence of a being that had once offered them a kind and eternal rest. 

Severus is tucked nicely into the sofa with a book in hand. All the cats gathered around him in an inviting manner. They all of course noticed his presence long before the man with the hook nose could take note in the slight dropping temperature of the room. The few candles that were set up flickered too as he adjusted his magic to fit in a much smaller and fleshy package. Being human or as close to it as he could be in form, always felt tight. Like trying to press all the sand on the planet into a small hourglass. There were still flakes that seeped out. Cold and the shadows never being quite right around him were some of the side effects. 

“Morte…” His dark eyes widened. 

Death would give the being known as Severus credit he was one of the few mortals that after knowing exactly what he was, what he was capable of, wasn’t afraid of him. To borrow a phrase from an old storybook he greeted him like an old friend, and Death appreciated all those that treated him as such. It was always a hassle when someone went kicking and screaming when he was just trying to be their guide. 

“Hello, Severus.” He dipped his head in greeting. 

“Why are you here?” Severus got over his surprise rather quickly, gracefully as ever. 

“I came to check on my children. They were once one with me, Harry then created something beautiful from them and the grandchildren are life created from two things that were once dead.” Death stroked down Garfield's spine as he had moved closer to him on the table. He was so soft. “I was a little surprised that Harry did not ask me to watch them again.” 

Severus made a face like he was trying to be polite. “Well, I am sure that he thought you were busy.”

Death chuckled. “I am everywhere and nowhere at once. Time to me is irrelevant, so I suppose that by your reaction that Anubis was correct it was my attempt to let them have stimulation of hunting that was off-putting.” 

“Some people are not fond of remnants of carnage, in their home.” Severus relented. 

“No, but one would think that Riddle would be, with the way he was.” Death paused his petting. “However he has greatly changed since he was just shards. I am quite impressed with you humans ability to change, and the capability for remorse.”

They met eyes, black and dark reading each other. They had not spoken freely since Death had told him that Lily was on the other side. Such a lovely vibrant soul, forgiving, and stubborn. So very much like Harry. As if on cue it was at this time that Sirius had decided to enter the room.

“Morte!” He greeted very fondly. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

“I have not seen you since the results came in for Harry and Tom’s tests.” Death nodded with a smile. “I do believe that Tom could have done better if he looked over the notes I gave him.”

“He received all O’s.” Sirius shook his head. “I can not think there was much room for improvement.”

“There is always room for improvement.” Death disagreed. “However I do suppose that he did satisfactory for his age.” 

“Spoken like a true educator.” Sirius sat near Severus on the sofa that moved a tad away from the other, causing the cats to stir. “Are you here to visit the cats? I heard about the issues you had watching them the last time.”

“Yes, I underestimated the mess that cats would choose to leave after devouring what could be considered better nutritional value than what comes in the canned variety. As I have come to realize, it seems some do not like to come home to a mess they could simply wave their wands to solve.” 

“Some people are a bit squeamish.” Sirius shrugged. “Not Tom or Severus though.”

“Yes, he must have to deal with cutting things apart most often for potions, and has experience with it in other mediums.” 

Severus bristled a little at that. Perhaps he was still ashamed of his actions as a Death Eater. Which honestly was a very insulting name for a group if he had ever heard of one. Death did not eat, devour, or harm souls. Even the most tainted and evil of them. Sirius seemed oblivious in the change in mood. 

“So you think that Tom has proposed to Harry yet?” Sirius relaxed into the back of the sofa. “He asked my permission of all things, like any of us could control Harry if we tried.”

Death laughed at that. “Not even I nor any other force would be able to stop him achieving something if he wanted it great enough.”

“He talked to me very little of his plan,” Severus added to the conversation. “He seemed to wish to do it in some romantic gesture. I can not for the life of me know what exactly that would entitle.” 

“I would know if it was anything particularly Dark.” Death dismissed any concern that there could have been on that subject. “He told me that he would be headed to Egypt though based on my suggestion of visiting the cradle of magic. There is a lot of soul to the old cities that could prove useful in any of their tasks.” 

Sirius probably took that to mean that all the places were romantic, but Severus nodded his head in understanding of what Death meant by that.

“Speaking of relationships and marriage of souls. Have either of you put any thought into it.” Death pressed knowing full well the answer to it. He had helped to set up far stranger couples. 

“Absolutely not.” Severus bit out. 

“Kind of.” Sirius rubbed the back of his head. “I have to admit that I have been thinking of taking things seriously. Remus, after all, has started dating even.”

“Ah.” Death nodded in acceptance. “Well, I am sure that things will become clearer to both of you as time sorts itself out. In the meantime, I think I shall give the cats treats.” 

The magic word had been spoken and many pairs of eyes traveled to him as Death parted his hands and tiny little fish burst to life and started flopping on the floor.


	3. Hogwarts vs. Lockhart

**RON**

Ron Weasley had a love and hate relationship with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well, perhaps that was not true. He really had that with school in general. There were some subjects that he liked, and things about it that he liked. For instance, he loved learning practical spells that would help him protect himself from that annoying sleaze ball Draco Malfoy, and his brothers should think it a fun idea to prank him. The twins often did decide to prank him. 

No, the reason he hated and loved defense as well, they never had the same professor for more than a year, and while that worked well for people that were pure awful at the subject. It was horrible what happened to cause the good ones to leave. Professor Quirrell had been the first teacher that he had really started to learn from. 

A professional curse breaker and monster hunter working at Hogwarts. It had been too good to be true. He hadn’t believed it when he heard that Quirrell had fought against zombies, demons, or even a dragon. He had heard about Quirrell from his father when the semester had yet to start from the new teachers' list. He had remarked that Quirrell had been a quiet man and he highly doubted his credentials. By the description, Ron had expected a timid, small, man that would teach them purely the basics. 

Imagine his surprise when there was a rather small but well-toned man that had shown up at the head table. He had scars that Ron would only see when he had been close enough to see them while in class. Quirrell was a no-nonsense professor that demanded respect when he was teaching. He unlike Snape though did not terrify his students, he made small jokes, and allowed for things to be fun when they were not working on the practical. He understood the need for fun, and for the subject to be taken seriously as he had seen what happened first hand when one was not prepared. 

Ron had been taken immediately by learning how to defend, shield, and duel. He was clumsy in some of his spell work, charms and transfiguration would never be his strong suit. But he had found a talent, and enjoyment in learning to recognize deadly runes and apply his chess-like strategies to the spells he could use in his repertoire to duel with and disarm his opponents. He took great pride in knocking Draco on his arse a few times. 

He looked forward to Quirrell's dry witty humor, encouragement, and open office hours and dueling club. What could be better? He had heard that the man had even figured out how to break the curse on the position. So imagine his surprise when he didn’t see Quirrell’s name on the staff sheet, no swoll figure sitting at the head table, and no dueling club planned for the year. No instead there was this pompous, vain, man that couldn’t as much as say a sentence without bringing up his own ‘brilliance’ or achievements let alone teach. He supposed that he liked Quirrell's ability to be humble. Everyone knew he was talented, but he never bragged about it. He even admitted that he had survived on luck purely sometimes. 

There were many girls that like Lockhart they didn’t see him for what he was, useless, and stupid. Least Malfoy was complaining loudly about the school going to the dogs to let him teach. It would be one of the very few things that they would ever come to agree on. He did throw himself into learning the material that he figured would have been taught to him, should he have been in a good class. But it was not the same enjoyment when there was someone fun to talk to about the stuff. 

“You know, I never thought I would miss the turban head.” Fred sighed, putting his quill down. 

“Man knew how to give us a lot of homework, but at least it was practical.” George agreed.

“He was certainly a worthy teacher, unlike that Lockhart.” Hermione entered the conversation or rather butted into it. She had been complaining about the lack of work that had been acceptable. Ron was least happy she wasn’t fooled by Lockharts 'charm’ after more than a week in his class as his course work was certainly subpar for someone like her. 

“I really want to punch him in his smug white teeth,” Ron added his two cents. 

“I know that we only have to deal with him a year, but it's been one month and that's one month to many already.” Hermione huffed. 

“Well, we could…” Started Goerge. 

“Force him into an early retirement.” Finished Fred.

“You mean prank him into leaving?” Granger snorted. “Do you honestly think that would work?”

“Never know unless you try,” Fred shrugged. “Besides he seems like he would be easy enough to chase off.”

“You don’t suppose that Dumbledore chose him just to fill the position because he couldn’t find anyone,” Hermione stated. “If you chase him off there might not be a replacement.”

“So no teachers better than him.” Ron snipped. “You can’t say you're learning anything from him.” 

“Well no.” Hermione sighed. “Except I suppose better tips for things like hair.” 

“Exactly. It's not like that will help you if some bloody dark wizard attacks yah.” Ron folds his arms. 

“Well said.” Fred cheered. 

“Question is what pranks to start with.” his brother grinned far too large. 

“And how to get away with em.” Fred finished for his brother. 

“If you're thinking bout chasing him off, I’ll help you.” Dean entered the conversation. “He is awful.”

“And me,” Ginny said proudly to stand with her brothers. 

Hermione made a face. “As much as I hate breaking the rules… even for a good cause. I will not be reporting on any of you and think I could be of some assistance.”

“We even have the brightest witch of our age.” Fred laughed. 

“We really can't fail then.” Ginny giggled. 

What came to pass was small pranks, outbursts in class, and things getting damaged or going missing. The best being the jinx that every time that Lockhart said something positive about himself for no reason his tongue grew another inch. It was not just them after a few weeks, other houses, and other people were starting to pick up on the act. Covering and making things happen when it would have been impossible for the main suspects to have done so. 

The swamp flooding his personal chambers, the ruining of his fancy robes with bad dying spells, and the literal shedding of his books and having passages rearranged when he was trying to read them was taking its toll. The nice smiling conceded man was turning into someone that was seconds from snapping and jumping in terror at others. The staff particularly Snape was not interested in helping him solve the issues either. Snape mentioning in his only act of greatness that Ron would ever credit him for, said in no short of terms. “I would not wish to step on such a great and capable wizard's toes.” 

Lockhart was beside himself with anger, and his hostility and lack of order in his classes just further dragged him down. It was brilliant in a way, the house unity that was brought into play all in the name of getting rid of someone that was incompident and trying to convince the board to reinstate Quirrell or find a suitable replacement. 

It got so bad that Dumbledore started sitting in on the lessons. He definitely seemed less than impressed with Lockhart's teaching methods and lack of classroom management and control but did not offer to do much. Perhaps Draco was right, the old man was losing it. Ron didn’t want to think about it, as Dumbledore was almost a hero to him in many ways. He was a self-made man, a world-class duelist, and of course the most famous Griffendor since Godric himself! But the more that he looked at him. The more he noticed how he looked disheveled like he could not take proper care of himself. He was missing feasts and such. He apparently was under a lot of stress. His mother even wrote him with a bit of worry in her letter when he brought it up. Apparently he thought that Death Eaters may be on the march again, and it made it clear that if that was the case they needed to get rid of Lockhart and be quick about it. People needed a good defense if that was to happen. 

He had read in the paper some conflicting things about this Dark Wizards on the rising claim. Especially if it was connected to the boy who lived and his supposed love interest. Ron tried not to care about gossip of the school but it was really hard not to overhear some of the stuff that was being said. Even Hermione that he sometimes forgot was a girl and all seemed to think that Marvolo was pretty good looking for Voldemort's son and seemed not to be on the same political spectrum as he had seemed to denounce Death Eaters. Honestly, he had no idea what to believe with the Slytherins feeling there was the need to be more bigoted than ever about blood status and with the way that Dumbledore was acting. 

Still, the pranks on Lockhart continued.

“I can’t even use the bathroom in peace!” Lockhart slammed the toilet seat that seemed to have been half blown up in his shaking hand. There were suppressed giggles from the back of the room. “I don’t care who is responsible for this and whether they come forward or not. All of you will be writing lines on how to show respect for authority and staff.” 

Herminoe scowled next to him. 

“Why would we write those lines if we were not responsible for anything?” Malfoy loudly complained.

“I can’t respect anyone that doesn't respect me.” Pansy concurred. “Especially some half-blood.” 

“Silence.” Lockhart bellowed.

“Or what?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’ll make us write more? Actually grade something so you can mark us down?”

“I will have order, and if I have to take points I will.” 

“Tak’em.” Ron shook his head. “I’m not writing a lie on a piece of parchment.”

“I’m not wasting my good supplies,” Hermione muttered in agreement. 

“I’m just going to leave.” Dean stood. “I’m wasting my time here.”

“That's something we both can agree on.” Malfoy agreed. “The board has already voted to sack him once a new professor is located anyway.” 

“50 points from Slytherin and Gryffindor.” Lockhart spat, “Any others that want to leave it will be another fifty points, and detention you bet yah.” 

Ron who was close to the front could see his veins, popping on his forehead. The Slytherins and Griffendors all looked at each other. And in perhaps a spark of pure brilliance or stupidity, Dean went first and left, then Seamus, Lily Moon, and then Ron himself went and waited outside the classroom. Soon went Nott, and Pansy, then Malfoy and his lackeys. It went on until all that would have been left was Neville and Hermione they both left together. 

Thus started the great boycott of defense. All students followed suit until there was not a single point in the counters, in fact, it had moved to negative numbers by the end of the day. Of course, it would go down in the history books Ron was sure as it was the only year such a thing had happened. Never had all 4 houses reached the negative. The Slytherins were still the closest to positive, as they still needed to seem superior but it was quite the sight. Dumbledore was away doing whatever he had business doing, but till then each of the other teachers took over the class, in Lockhart's stead, honestly too tired of the mini rebellion they had on their hands to do much other than banishing the foolish man to the main staff lounge. Snape also oddly disappeared for the weekend shortly after Dumbledore which was really strange according to Malfoy. Ron didn’t mind not seeing the man stalk about ever since his awful fall, he had been more irritable than normal. With any luck the man wouldn’t come back. It would not be till much later that Ron found himself on the train back towards home as his mother had pulled them all out of school. She said it was a personal, family matter so Ron doubted it was because she had heard about their terrorizing of Lockhart and if she did it wasn't worth the effort to send a howler.


	4. World Class Monster Hunter

**Quirinus Quirrell**

It was mid-year, he found himself on a case. He had not expected to take Guild work and had sold off many of his things in preparation to travel lightly again, the rest he just threw into storage. He couldn’t say that he had been happy with the very short notice elimination of his position. It was almost like Dumbledore was upset about him bringing in outside help to break the curse. A curse that the old man claimed not to be able to break and would be happy should someone be able to accomplish it. Harry was right, Hogwarts and the educational boards really were just politics and stupidity. 

He was just sorry that he had wasted his summer tweaking his existing lesson plans and scraping some of the things he didn’t think worked well for other better ideas. He also hoped to have made the dueling club more competitive by getting permission for the older students to go to small tournaments. It would have really made it that much more enjoyable for those that were advanced enough to be bored with the current members. Not that any of these hopes or ideas really paid off at all. He had gotten comfortable and had been happy with his position. 

How foolish of him to trust Dumbledore or a staff that had people like Severus on it. He might not have been a Death Eater any longer, but he certainly made even those in his own house uncomfortable. Such a bully, and being bullied most of his life Quririnus did not like them. It had put him on odds with the potion professor since day one, or rather before it with Harry’s help in the matter. 

Still, he supposed that the open road and traveling was exciting to him. There were still many people that needed his help, it just wasn’t students any longer. Perhaps another institution when he was done with a couple more years in the field. They certainly would have been happy to have someone like him. 

He at the moment was looking into sightings of a very large and hairy beast, that seemed wolf-like. It had mauled a few people and one of them had died. Poor Muggles in a rural area of China didn't really stand a chance vs something they considered to be at best superstition. He had been called in as a specialist. They were not having much luck prior to him stepping onto it. 

Wizards wouldn’t think there were as many magical creatures as there were, but it wasn’t that great of a stretch to see people claiming to have seen things like Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, or great lizard-like creatures in the most remote places of the world. 90% of the time that Quirinus was sent out he could talk a person or creature down. He could get them help. He wasn’t really on the level of people that had gone past Hogwarts to universities and internships with magical creatures, but he did try to catch the menaces and place them places that they would be safe from both Wizards and Muggles that did not understand them. 

In this case, he was near positive was a magical person recently turned Werewolf. All it took was one unfortunate bite and a person could be infected with the illness. Quirinus did not particularly care if a person was a werewolf or not. They were only dangerous on the day of the full moon and during. Some handled transformation days better than others, but some were downright vicious before they had the ability to maul or take someone's head off. Nonetheless, he was determined to find the afflicted and help them if they could not afford wolfbane's potion, a place that was very safe for transformations and where they would not hurt another soul. He needed to do this before the villagers really took to hunting their own and killed. Of course, there was the chance that while it looked almost accidental that the person had malicious intent when they had attacked and that meant that Quirrell was in for a duel and carting someone off to the Chinese prison which was worse than Azkaban. A place that before Qurriell had really been to would not have believed existed. He wouldn't wish that place on anyone that did not truly deserve a terrible fate.

He bent down and traced over the tracks with his fingers. The prints bit into the dirt, he could see the long claws and the way that it could be both bipedal and quadrupedal. If any of those strange cryptids shows Muggles watched were able to get a really good look at this they would have claimed it was unlike anything documented. It was unknown to even these remote people. But for someone trained as him, he can see the messy footprints of a transformation. He follows the tracks until they morph into more human handprints and footprints.

His wand traces the air for magical signatures only to have it pick up right beside him.

"Ah." He shook his head and quickly turned, shield at the ready. There was a very large haggard man standing there. He was definitely from another country of origin, light-skinned like Quirrell himself. Perhaps a tourist or a translator that had gotten lost along the way and got himself bitten.

"Hello." He tries in Chinese first and then when met with nothing but a loud grunt switches to English suspecting that might be more accommodating. "Good morning."

"Is it?" The man gruffed. 

"Well, it certainly has been a rather pleasant one for me. I don't know if I can say the same for you as I am sure that last night was not exactly a fun one for you and you're up pretty early after it."

The man's lip curled. "What makes you say that?" He tries to be intimidating, but while Werewolves did have far greater strength this man did not seem to have a wand. It helped to make up the difference though, Quirinus was not foolish enough to underestimate the ability for speed and physical attack. He was a smaller man after all. Hardly 5 foot 3 and usually when he was thrown onto his back, it makes it difficult to even attempt to get back up again. He is never having a repeat of his first mission.

"Well for one your clothes are pretty torn and your feet are bloodied. I can't imagine that is all that comfortable with the dwindling warmer days of fall behind us." Even without keen observation skills, it was obvious that the man wasn't exactly normal. 

"I like the cold," was the rumbled reply.

"Of course, some of us do." He said about as friendly as he could muster, all things considered, as the other was showing definite signs of moving closer to him. "Here's the thing, as nice as long strolls in the cold are. I have to ask you not to do so in your other form. There have been a couple of reposts of a monster lurking in the woods around here. And I am not saying that you are a monster, I am just saying that some more Muggle or closed-minded Wizards and Witches might not see it that way. Especially after a few months ago, someone was mauled and another died similarly. The village has put a hit out over your head and the Chinese Ministry wants this mess settled so they sent me."

The man blinks slowly. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He is getting more and more agitated by the second. He might not even be as close to rational as he usually was because he had just gone through a transformation. From what he knows of it, it's unimaginably painful. A slow death really as when a person got too old they might not make it through the process.

"I know that you do. You, my dear friend, are a werewolf, which is most unfortunate but there are ways to dampen the moon's effects and make it safer for yourself and others. I can not imagine that it is fun for you to wake up and wonder where you have been and what you have done. Please let me help you, and I can make sure that you get treatments." He has to make himself stand up as straight as possible. He doesn't want to make too big of a scene of it as if he is trying to indicate a fight between the two of them, or a display of dominance. He does this just to show that he is capable of defending himself if needed and that he isn't scared. He most certainly is concerned for his own well being but he isn't scared.

There was a reason that he was almost placed in Slytherin after all.

"There isn't a way in hell that you or the government cares about what happens to me. I bet you get paid either way. I won't be tricked into being locked in some cage somewhere till the end of time or turn my back so that you can shoot it with that wand."

Quirrell lowered his wand a fraction. He is very used to these sorts of conversations. He makes himself seem less intimidating, more welcoming, and respectful. He turns his tone as serious as he can from his more light-hearted demeanor that usually helps to throw possible opponents off.

"The government here might not, nor may a few other places. But I don't take pay unless I know that I have done my job correctly. It would not feel right to take the freedom of someone else. Especially if you did not mean to cause harm. I however can't let you roam around every full moon with the chance to hurt another."

"Yeah, and how do you know I didn't mean to hurt those nice people?" The werewolf backs off just slightly, he no longer seems nearly as hostile with his body language. He is tired, tired no doubt of dealing with things like this.

"Because the attacks would have been more frequent. You have been running trying to make sure you're further and further away from people but they keep finding you don't they?'' He delicately puts it. 

The man is silent and Quirrell has some hope that his words have managed to sink in until the man just flat out decides to bolt and Quirrell resigns himself to the chase and inevitable fight.

The fight isn't long, not really. Quirrell knows how to incapacitate an opponent relatively quickly and painlessly if the situation calls for it. He helps to get the young but large man back to his home country. It's not hard from there to make sure that he checks himself into a nice little place that is designed for some of the more nocturnal to transition to everyday life. America had one of the better Ministries in his opinion even if they were very against interacting with Muggles.

~/*\~

He hasn't smoked in a very long time, but this grizzly case file makes even the smartest of people in need of a fix. He hasn't smoked since he joined that curse-breaking team nearly 4 years ago. The demon that had possessed someone was a real bit of work to trap and drag out of the little kid. But even that hadn't been as bloody with 5 bodies flung around, and a couple severed limbs. No, this case had the looks of something just as grizzly. Though he didn't know currently what could shred someone so thoroughly without magic. 

There were not many true monstrous creatures alive anymore. Most things that were able to communicate with other sentient life, did not do these sorts of things. The merpeople for example that used to drown sailors of old for messing with their homes and fish harvests had made trade laws. Old serpents were managed by magical creature departments and monitored so that they did not interact with nonmagical creatures. Things from the deep were moved to deep locations never to bother others. There were safety measures in place to stop things like this from happening. But every once and awhile a real monstrous thing surfaced, and it could not have been traced or managed. Sometimes they were things that none thought existed until they were face to face with it. or things though to be extinct decided that they would make a come back. 

This is something that floors him, it is something that he hasn't seen before. These people... they were torn apart. There was nothing really left with that many claw, and bite marks. They were sharper teeth he knew that were designed for shredding not chewing. The pictures are enough to set him on edge. It's not like he hasn't handled pretty messed up things. He has... it's just the victims are so young and he was not some Gryffindor that charged into things. He did not like to take cases of things that he did not understand. Messing with these things usually had consequences. Not that they could just let it roam about. That was certainly not an option. At least not currently. 

The way he saw it this wasn't something he wanted to encounter. He did not want the case, especially not without a team. He didn't think that this Magical officer knew what they were dealing with nor had the ability to gather a proper group to hunt such a thing, nor build a task force that would have the know-how. They certainly wouldn't have asked a Cursebreaker and small-time dark creature wrangler for something like this if they had anyone useful. 

He leans against the wall, letting the last of his cigarette die against his fingertips. He hardly feels the burn before stamping out the very small bud. 

"So can you help." The man that called him here, Purcellville Dogsmary, definitely is trying to sound like he isn't desperate, but it certainly comes off wreaking of it. 

"How many people do you have working on this?" Quirrell wants an easy out, more people to distribute for where he thinks they ought to go. He has little want to be completely hands-on. From what he heard there might be another opening on a far simpler guild mission that wouldn't require nearly the same level of risking life and limb. 

"5 it's all the department can spare at the moment, the recruitment is down, crimes in the wizarding world have been down." He sounds almost disappointed, but then he is an old officer of the law, he has seen the darker times of Voldemort enter after Grindelwald, and sweep back out. There was always the struggle for a soldier to find something meaningful to do when war was over. A war that did not look to be returning any time soon. "We're still at peace you know, no dark lord on the rise that we know of, even if that Dumbledore fellow seems really convinced."

"Yes he does seem to be following Mad-eye down the rabbit hole," Quirrell says dismissively, he has no love for the old man and certainly can't take Moody's rambles on how to stop meddling with his type of work. As if the retiring old bat had any say in the permits that he was able to obtain. "You do realize that 5 people is not nearly enough. This thing has hit 15 muggles and counting. You need probably at least 3 to keep the people away from the screen and obliviate prying eyes, that leaves 2 trying to collect data and whatever else that needs to be done. Have you contacted anyone from Mythical Creatures?"

Dogsmary grunts in frustration lighting up another from of his pack. "Yes we have one on our team but since no one has lived to tell the tale or witness anything past the trail it leaves behind it. We really have no idea what we're dealing with. It's not human. Nothing human could have done these attacks."

There was something to be said about that certainty, he knows it's an animal, but he knows that there are people quite capable of horrible things. "No, and by the bite marks and such it's not a werewolf, vampire, ghoul, inferi, anything like that." 

He sighs trying to think, feeling more and more like he is agreeing to be part of this mess, at least for a little bit. He just does not have it anymore to refuse people that are in true need of help. 

"Exactly why you were contacted. You have dived into the strange..." Dogsmary lets out a puff of smoke, it travels out towards the opening of the bar. "I can catch men that do bad things. I have always had an eye for it, but these things don't think like people. Things like this are out of my depth." 

"This is a little outside of my usual job," Quirrell admits and notices the way Dogmary seems to deflate. "Not to say that I won't be helping, just that I would prefer to bring in a third party that could be of help."

He has no idea if said person would be up for this sort of venturing. It's not exactly like this falls out of what they normally work on but he is almost a child, and sometimes he wonders if that young of people despite being experts want to be or should be dragged into this sort of mess. 

"And this third party I assume needs to be paid?" Dogsmary already seems to be thinking about how they were going to come up with some galleons for a consultation fee. 

"No one works for free, but I would assume that he and his partner if they are interested would be reasonable." He has a feeling that if he involves Harry that Marvolo is going to have to come along for the ride. He was the overprotective type but what he could tell. "I had their help break the curse that was placed on the dark arts position at Hogwarts."

"That's right you were an educator for a bit there." Dogsmary's horse laugh ends in coughs at the idea. "Why'd you leave if you broke that curse, certainly it was a bit better of a job than risking life and limb." 

"Ah well, I had a few disagreements with the staff working there." Quirrell scowls regretting ever bringing the topic up. "Albus was a bit paranoid of the Dark Lord returning and he took it upon himself to get rid of anyone that he thought might have had slight brushes of it, yet seemed fine with his ex Death Eater spy."

"Shameful." He takes another long draw. 

"Exactly." Quirrell adjusts his turban. 

"How long till you think they would be available." 

"It's hard to say, Harrison is a busy man that takes on whatever strikes his fancy. He could be anywhere from a week, a month, to not at all. But I would feel much more comfortable with him on board. I am not sure if you know Harrison Morte but he was the one that dealt with the rampaging hippogriff that was really a poor cursed Muggle 2 years ago." 

"That I heard was quite the scandal for the magical creatures division and the muggle relations. Gave the obliviation team quite the challenge to patch the memories up." Dogsmary has no hint of being upset in his voice, sounds more like he finds it all humorous. 

"It was." He openly admits. He has a very vivid memory of a very well disguised Harry Potter clinging to the things back and forcing it to land with a near chokehold and then wrestling it a bit before getting his wand out and being able to reverse the spell and destroy the cursed necklace. they never did find out who planted it on her. The Ministry was convinced it was pranksters gone too far, others were convinced it was one of the unethical traveling zoos trying to get a few transfigured animals for a show. Whatever the case, Harrison had taken care of it, and slipped off without answering any of the law's questions leaving the guild to do all the cleanup work.

He wonders if that is part of the reason that Harry has been inactive for a while or if it's simply time for him to try something else. He's young and there are more important things like school. 

~/*\~

He gets an answer a few months later, and thank Godric he heard some news because it's been a mess. Since he is out of the country Quirrell has not heard until now about the scandal that had happened in Europe. Dumbledore had been arrested for kidnapping and had been charged for a whole bunch of things. Of course, the man in question didn't remember anything after a failed oblivion spell wiped him back to the times before Grindelwald. He wasn't sure if the man would get off but there seemed to be a fast turn around at Hogwarts. Mcgunigal had taken over as headmistress and fired Lockheart. He was offered his rightful position for the spring semester, though it didn't exactly feel right to accept before he finished the mission that he said he would help with. Thus he really needed to get this thing wrapped up, and thankfully ever the person that was fine to enter the thick of problems and danger Harry had accepted his request. 

It's good to see you again Quirrell." Harry stood next to Marvolo who looked anything but pleased to be there. 

"Don't mind him, I am sure you saw the fiasco in the papers." Harry smiled largely. "He's just worried that someone will take a picture of him frowning." 

Quirrell nodded, "Looks like you again found yourself in deep trouble, and it would not be much of a change he is scowling in all the photos from the last few weeks." 

"It's not like I can help it, trouble is like a magnet to him." Marvolo finally speaks. "He decided to rush in as always. One can only imagine what he would do with this case." 

"We're still working out exactly what the process should be if I want to jump into something." Harry shrugged, not at all bothered by the way that a few people had turned to stare at them. 

"It's to bring me along,'' Marvolo adds smoothly. 

"But you're not always going to be available and not always want to help out much like this case." Harry countered. 

"That's because I know what it probably is and I am not interested in playing hide and seek to find it." Marvolo snips. 

"You know what it is?" Quirrell decides to interrupt before Harry can make it into another witty statement as a reply.

"Yes, unfortunately. I have had a few dealings with such things." Marvolo chooses however not to elaborate. 

Quirrell finds a very biting bit of curiosity to know how and why he has had to have dealings with the thing, but then the more rational side of him really doesn't think he wants to know and doesn't want to stir up trouble where it does not have to be. 

"Well, what you can help share with me and Dogsmary would probably be beneficial. All I have been able to tell is that it's most likely hiding in the swears as all the attacks have happened after dark and near grate openings." 

All things considered, it's not much to go on. He has been searching, trying to track something that kills quickly, and messily. Something that is not really magically based, and leaves as quickly as it comes. There are witnesses of creeping darkness with red eyes, but that is hardly a great explanation. There's nothing more concrete than that. 

"Let's just hope that there aren't a bunch of them down there," Marvolo muttered to himself as Harry rocked on his feet waiting for the other to explain. "This is not something I want to talk about in the open." 

The son of the Dark Lord Voldemort stalked into the nearest cafe and proceeded to subtly put up protective wards. He then lays down his coat and proceeds to order himself and perhaps Harry some tea. Harry, probably used to his antics, just sits down. 

"It's been a bit of a rough week." Harry sighs. "Glad that it's just the 3 of us currently." 

"I do feel awful about what happened to you." Quirrell respectfully nods to one of the staff members that are looking at them. He passes his order over towards the counter with magic. "I have never been a large fan of Head Master Dumbledore, and that was long before he decided that he wanted to fire me."

"Are you thinking of heading back to the teaching world?" Harry doesn't seem to feel the need to accept his condolences. He is never the type to dwell though on the bad things that have happened to him. 

"I honestly prefer it, but I wasn't sure exactly if I would get the opportunity to head back."

"Hence taking this job." Harry nodes.

"Yes taking this job, and now even if I do want to leave it, I can not because I would feel rather awful leaving a case half-finished. It's just not my style as you know." 

"I am most aware." Harry agrees easily "I would be the same way." 

"Not Marvolo though." Quirrell looks back to where Marvolo seems to be collecting the tea with as much charm as humanly possible.

"Not Tom, no. He probably would make proper recommendations and excuses for his actions and leave it at that. He will be quite the politician I assure you once we take our tests early."

There isn't much else to say up until Marvolo sits himself down with the darkest looking tea that he has ever seen. 

"Now I have narrowed your monster down to two creatures. One would be better to encounter than the other. Both however are equally deadly, and equally challenging to deal with. One is solitary and the other likes to get together into little groups like families." 

"Wonderful." Harry sighs, "Why do I have a bad feeling that that family reunion will be anything but enjoyable for us." 

Marvolo ignores him. "Shades or Shadow People are not exactly man-eating, but they do take advantage of prey that they can easily feed upon and there is an abundance of. Humans would be a relatively nice thing to feed off of. There are hundreds of them, after all, clambering around and working boring and typical types of work completely unaware of something that could be lingering in the shadows of tall buildings or bathed completely in darkness of your swears." He takes a large drink of his tea. "The other thing I don't even want to consider." 

"That sounds like it would fit the witness description of creeping darkness and red eyes." Quirrell sighs. "There have been 20 murders in the last two months, as you have seen the crime photos the people were mutilated and parts of them eaten." 

Marvolo looks only slightly relieved by that. "It's a lot better than the alternative."

"Which is?" Harry raised a brow.

"North American Wendigo." 

He is hardly able to repress a shudder as chills run up his spine. "How does one beat shadows?" Quirrell poses his probably silly question by the way that Marvolo is scowling. 

"With caution, I'm guessing?" Harry chuckles looking over at his boyfriend. 

"No Harry, there is nothing one can do to be cautious when chasing shadows to their lear."

"So how?" Harry rolls his eyes. 

"How does anyone beat darkness?" Marvolo sighs "Light and lots of it." 

Quirrell knows that he has done a lot of dumb things in his life, but running around with the brightest of bright spells and basting at any small shadow that even looks suspicious has to be one of them. It's inviting as Marvolo had put the shadows to come and play as he was essentially in their space. 

Harry was not nearly as worried about the possibility of something coming out of the dark to eat him. 'Tom' had stayed above ground with the others to catch any that tried to seep out of the sewer grates to safety. He of course had given Harry the longest and detailed safety speech that Quirrell had ever heard, before releasing them to the task. Safety that Quirrell is pretty sure that Harry will abandon at his earliest convenience. 

It surprisingly enough doesn't take long to see seeping darkness as the witnesses have called it, furthering the proof that as long as Harry Potter was involved something was bound to try and initiate a fight with him. 

~/*\~

Harry laughs as he sits on the barstool. "I swear that I almost went blind." 

"I fail to see how Quirrell's lack of aim is funny in this situation. You could have been eaten alive." Marvolo stresses the seriousness of the situation. 

"But I wasn't and he did hit the bloody thing and it erupted into fire." Harry smiled. "And now I can officially retire from doing things like this and you can stop worrying about me every five seconds." 

Marvolo's face turns red but he doesn't seem to have a reply to that. 

"Have you given thought into what you wanted to do after your upcoming exams?" Quirrell can not help but pry a little. It was better than having the conversation continue on how it was really Harry that had saved the day and how he had failed to be the most useful down in the swears.

"I am going to work on helping out in the integration of Muggle-borns into our culture. I hope to also improve laws for magical children that are orphaned so that they would not be raised by nonmagical folk that would not understand them." Harry says his goal nobly and with nothing but the utmost determination. it is sure to succeed. 

"Harry we discussed this..." Marvolo starts.

"You mean you talked at me about why you don't think that is the best career choice for me. I didn't like any of your alternative suggestions and I will not be picking anything else."

Marvolo just sighs deeply. "I suppose there really is no talking you out of that charitable idea, other than adopting any stray you see."

"He doesn't think that we should even remotely think about children in the future." 

"Harry, you're 14 and Marvolo is only 16. You can't possibly be thinking about having kids yet." Quirrell can't help but see some of his students when he looks at them.

'Tom' snorted at that. "You tell him."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I feel a lot older, you can't blame me for wanting things that I never had." That statement seems to almost wound Marvolo by the expression that he carries. Harry seems to sense this and gets up to hold onto him. "It's by no means your fault no stop moping."

The celebration lasts a few more hours and Quirrell is a little saddened to part with Harry again. They have been friends for many years now and he still has a hard time believing that he is who he says that he is. It just seems so unreal. The gray magic though is undeniably beautiful and it messes with the darker core of Marvolo into a near suffocating show of immense power. They would be quite the pair if they were to go into something that involved dueling or a job that demanded large magical output. But Harry wanted to help magical children and 'Tom' had privately mentioned that he had been considering a job in law and politics something in regards to put a real end to blood bigotry. It was hard to tell what he was saying as Marvolo had slurred it being slightly drunk but it sounded like to make up for past transgressions. Such things almost felt like a loss of potential, but Quirrell can understand the want for a normal life, considering what their childhoods were like. Perhaps Harry was correct when he said that they seemed a lot older than they were. They certainly were a most interesting couple. 

~/*\~

He stepped through the wards to the old castle, they brushed against him like a welcome home hug. He strode up the staircase to where his office was located and just took a deep breath, he could smell the faint smell of potions from the vents to the dungeons, and that musty smell of old brick, and paintings. It was good to be back. He took great pleasure in vanishing and tearing up the old Professors things. A fraud Harry had called him and encouraged Quirrell if he needed another claim to his name to read the books and provide evidence that it was all essentially bullshit. He spent the next few hours setting himself up to be comfortable in the room once more. He hung his many masks back onto the walls, rearranged the desks, and disposed of nearly all of the mirrors that seemed to have been set up so the instructor could see himself at every angle. 

When it was all done he adjusted his turban and sat in the comfy desk chair. At least he would have a few more stories to tell students about this year.


	5. Assistant

**Granger**

Hermione Granger is the brightest witch of her age. She had graduated Hogwarts with nothing by exceptional marks. She scored all Os on her Owls and on her NEWTS. She is estimated to have had the highest marks since Tom Riddle and was possibly up there with known wizards such as Albus Dumbledore. It was a real shame about his memory loss and health decline that had caused such a horrible incident. Needlessly, she has read nearly every book in the Hogwarts library and can recall much of it thanks to her exceptional memory in the name of fun. All that she ever had to work on or apply herself to she succeeded in. She had taken internships over the summers intending to learn all that she could about things from potions to ruins. She placed herself high onto the lists of possible appearances after graduation. Though she didn't think she was quite ready to pick a particular subject to study alone. Transfigurations was her favorite and Mcgunigal that had taken over as Head Mistress thought that she would make a very lovely professor to replace her in a few years. A strong will and intuition were important skills apparently when choosing an educator, as well as endless patience. 

Needless to say that with such an endless list of accomplishments finding work should have been easy. She should have been able to walk right up to the department of her choice and be able to hand her resume in and get the job. Of course, things didn't work that way, apparently, in reality, applying for jobs was not the same as applying for school subjects or internships. She was looking to get paid after all and many thought her to be inexperienced in the world and workforce outside of Hogwarts. How was she to get experience if no one would hire her? 

It was ridiculous, but it was no in her to give up, she had goals after all. Hermione had applied for the law offices for a paid internship, relations between magical creatures, Wizards, Witches, and Muggles had always been important to her. The law department had not been too interested in letting her join. Neither had a few other departments. Hermione figured that she had a very nuanced perspective on the subjects and therefore they did not want to listen to her branding of change. It was after the 3rd failed interview that she heard of a small group that had been impacting laws in regards to magical children that were born to two Muggle parents. This group was led by none other than Harry Potter. His boyfriend was working in Muggle and Magical relations. Both of them greatly interested her as they were more defined branches of the bigger figurehead jobs she had applied for. They would still be helpful to work under of that she was sure. 

The problem was she had heard about how Gaunt had risen in the rankings. He was selective, cutthroat, and demanded results. Most that worked with him would argue that under his combativeness he was able to be nice if only to select people and Harry. He just had strong opinions and a need for things to get passed into law, or the documents to be processed quickly, efficiently, and accurately. Which she could do! He was charming according to a few others she had talked to, not exactly what she had hoped for when looking into getting a possible job but an interesting fact. A few hoped that he was into both sexes in case Harry and him ever split. Others were convinced that those two were as good as married and joined at the hip. Either way the child protection group that Harry ran was very connected to Marvolo. If one rejected her there was a slight hope that the other would not and if she was to get into one, she could transfer to another. 

Harry seemed to be the better option. He was her age and far kinder from what she had heard and while he was determined to make a difference he was a little softer on his employees. The issue was securing an interview with Harry, his group was selective and the only contact that she really had that could be of some help was Ginny. Ginny had been one of Hermione's very few friends at school. Probably because she helped to keep her brother in check around her. Ronald was not a horrible person. He proved that with his willingness to stand up against Draco and a few others hate speech, but he was not always the nicest to Hermione either. She did not know if she really could call him a friend. 

It did not matter too much. The Weasleys seemed decently close to Harry because of the Order and apparently the more parental figures in his life had liked them. If anyone could give her an in to send her letters it was Ginny. So Hermione wrote Harry. She wrote very long, well thought out documents on what she could see in the future, how his planning was going, and about some legal things that might have been a hindrance that he might not have thought of. 

When she didn't hear back right away she sent a few follow up letters until a massive horned owl had shown up at her window ledge. It was a large angry-looking bird with yellow eyes that were hidden under large expressive feathers that looked like eyebrows. It bit her as she tried to get the scroll off of him. She felt like spiting the thing by not giving it an owl treat, but decided it might look bad if the bird returned looking exhausted and overly hungry. 

_______________________

To: Ms. Granger.

I have thoroughly read and reread your attached documents. I have returned them to you with highlights in what we as a small group have discussed. I was pretty impressed. Lord Gaunt however was not as pleased with the work. He is a bit harder to impress I am afraid. My small group doesn't have enough openings at the moment to give you a proper spot, nor the compensation for the time that you would have had to put in for these attached documents alone without being a once and a while consultant. However, Marvolo's group does have an opening. 'Tom' is a bit hard to win over, read over his notes, and send another annotated letter to him in response to his points. Be stubborn and firm in your answers, because he will probably be just as bad back. 

Best of luck and if something opens up here I will let you know,

Harry Potter. 

P.s. If you are worried about potential openings. Muggle studies and the department of documentation of Muggle-borns have openings, and I could write you a wonderful recommendation letter. 

_____________________________

And thus began the biggest mess of messaging that Hermione ever had. Lord Marvolo Gaunt, "Tom", was about as stubborn as they came. He was set in his ways and some of them were equal parts ridiculous as they were brilliant. Hermione by many letters eventually got a position as his personal assistant. She went everywhere with him and gave feedback. And at times horrible relationship advice as Harry seemed to get under Marvolo's skin more than any other person ever had. Which Marvolo complained about the whole time they went about actually dealing with Muggles. He seemed not to care about blood status but certainly didn't like Muggles. He might not have hated them, thought them as animals, but he definitely did not like them. After a few months of doing her best to ignore this fact and argue with herself that it was just Marvolo's personality to dislike people in general, she just could not rationalize it any more or over look it. 

"Why do you work with Muggles if you dislike them." She decides to be blunt with the accusation as it was impossible to miss the way that Marvolo was smiling as they took a break in a small cafe. It's strained and he looks like his face is offended by the action of having to make his facial muscles work that way for too long. 

"What makes you think that I don't like them?" He turns the question on her, he always does this. 

"Every time that you have to deal with them too long you look like you get a splitting headache."

"That is because I end up having to obliviate a lot of witnesses to things and supervise our people to make sure that they don't abuse that power." Marvolo straightens up in his seat. "You know the idiots that we have working in the departments, they get wand happy and some like Mr. Arthur Weasley think there is something grand about taking little bits of each crime scene. The government officials that know about our world are by far the laziest people I have ever met. Should there ever be a threat from someone like my father it be a miracle if any of the Muggles with their faces fixated on small devices would even notice if mass groups of them went missing.

"They would notice." Hermione narrowed her eyes, yes people could be oblivious but they certainly would notice something like that. 

"No, they wouldn't they would assume if it was a bunch of teens they were runaways, or they were homeless so it doesn't matter they left somewhere. The more I know about people the more I know they are the same. Uncaring, cruel, and utterly incompetent."

"I would hate to break it to you, Marvolo, but you do fit under that umbrella term of human." Hermione found it important to remind him. In case his inflated ego decided to rise any higher.

"I am well aware of that and my point still stands. I have been at one point all of those things." He actually has the audacity to look pleased with himself at her expression of surprise.

"Even incompetent?" She recovers.

"Especially that one in my youth. " He agrees half-mindedly with her. 

She snorts. "You are still considered by most to be young, Tom. Even you boyfriend would be considered that way too, and even if most people can be uncaring or cruel at times that does not mean that we are all like that. I mean there is good in the world, even if we have to strive so very hard to achieve it or keep some of it. 

"Perhaps." Marvolo folds his hands under his chin. "Harry and a few could be exceptions because he has only truly ever been incompetent. I don't think I have ever seen him do or say something cruel that was not unjustified." 

"I think we talked about not placing him on a pillar the last time you were fighting with him." Hermione humored good naturally. Marvolo seemed to think of Harry as having near god-like status and incapable of most and even basic wrongs. It needless to say lead to some very interesting fights that she had borne witness to.

Tom smiled wistfully at that. "I do believe you said that he isn't a saint and you had the letters to prove it." 

"I do." She smiled. "He has some particular things to say about the ministry that should they ever surface people would wonder about your political agenda should you actually run for Minister.

"People are just spreading that nonsense. I have no want to be Minister, power does not lie with the person signing the laws but with the people demanding that he sign them." Marvolo dismisses. Taking a sip of his drink, and then wrapping his fingers around it to feel the warmth.

"So you don't wish to be the youngest." She raises both eyebrows at this, she can't help but be surprised.

"No I have no wish to sink to the necessary evils to get that placement. I would rather bully Fudge or nudge him into doing what needs to be done than directly attacking him and having to face all the more shady people that hide behind him head-on in an office space." 

She actually could see him fighting them with spells though he had fought Albus Dumbledore and won. 

"I suppose that's true, but if you don't like people, why work in these types of departments?"

"You know Ms. Granger, I like your need to ask questions most times, as they are the type that should be asked. I however in times like these find that I hate it rather strongly." 

"Come on now, I feel like its a good one that needs answering." She pressed he luck and what remained of his patience.

Marvolo frowned deeper. "I don't like people, for reasons that we have already gone over, but just because I don't like them, or despise the pettiness and greed that affects us all doesn't mean that I want all of humankind to suffer. I don't particularly like Muggles as you have put it because they have the power to kill the world with simple buttons, they pollute the natural world and our culture. We have every right to fear what they are capable of doing without wands. Magical people are always so concerned about traditions, the old ways, and they are narrow-minded to the point that they ignore the much bigger population that very well could be a threat to them. They have a deliberate ignorance that shatters if put to very simple tests. I don't hate them because our kind can come from them, you are an excellent example of one of the ways to breach the gaps."

She feels a trickle of pride at that. Too many people have counted her as less because of where she has come from. what she had no choice of, and even if she did she loved her parents and family she had no desire to ever change that fact. She was proud to be their daughter and she knew that they were proud that she was theirs.

"I do what I do because one day there will be nowhere left to hide, and if we leave it up to Purebloods we will have a war that there will never be a recovery from." Marvolo continues. "I wish to ensure that our culture and our people continue well into the future. I will do this even if I have to put up with idiots, and fight to protect it." 

"A noble goal." She concedes, knowing that doing things that you hated to achieve something you wanted was hard and very amiable. Especially if it was for a very good cause.

"No more like a practical one." Tom finally makes a move for his sandwich. 

~/*\~ 

The months of working with Marvolo and the department blend together. Hermione enjoys her job more than she wanted to admit most days. The long hours do not bother her because Marvolo is every bit of a workaholic as she is. They have made great strides for equality, even if it has painted a red mark against Tom's back with some of the larger, older, and powerful houses. They had lost favor with a few backers, but Marvolo never failed to get the vote even when things looked particularly grim. He had to have blackmail on people or something to sway them so well to his side even if it was counter to their actual beliefs. 

She gathered up the mail and noticed a few very odd pamphlets. Wedding rings? 

"He really shouldn't have things like that sent to the office." Percy shook his head as he picked up mail for Mr. Crouch.

"It matters little." Marvolo's silky voice came from behind them. "It's not like I can have anything like this sent to the house. Harry would get suspicious and it would ruin any sort of surprise." 

"So your planning in tieing the knot?" Hermione's eyes widened. 

"No the wedding and engagement ring brochures are because I have a love for jewelry." Marvolo rolled his eyes. 

"Aren't you too young?" Percy interrupts. "Harry is only 17 and well your what 20?" 

Marvolo just smiles at that. "We have been together for years, tested though blood and fire so to speak. Our fates and souls have always been interwoven a wedding or ring will change nothing but give a physical documentation. 

Hermione laughs softly at that. "You are going to break a lot of girls' hearts Marvolo. I think they were hoping that you would break up and date one of them." 

"Some I am afraid will still flirt with me after the fact." Marvolo scowls at the thought. "But hopefully it can scare some of them off." 

"Err well an early congratulations to you then." Percy tries to be accepting of the fact. "I am sure that the papers will have fun writing that headline." 

Marvolo frowns a little deeper. "They better not find out about it before Harry does or I will curse the person responsible to never move up in their department." 

"Wouldn't dream of spreading any gossip, sir." Percy pales just slightly. 

"Wonderful." Marvolo takes the packets from Hermione. "Ms. Granger I could use your expert opinion on a few things." 

She shakes her head and heads back to the main office. "I don't know if I would be any good at helping with picking a ring." 

"It's a good thing that wasn't what I was going to ask of you." Marvolo sighs. "I think I can handle that myself. Harry would like anything red, trust me. No, what I was going to ask you was strictly professional. He holds up another bunch of packets. "In your professional experience what places are best in the world to travel to out of these." 

"For a business trip?" She raises an eyebrow hardly able to keep a straight face reaching for them to look over. 

"But of course, I would never ask anything of you during office hours that was not for the betterment of the department." He looks purposely 'offended' by the idea. 

"I see, well I am sure that this trip will help with stress levels or certain individuals." 

"Perhaps, it would also help interpersonal relationships between departments." Marvolo chuckles.


	6. A proposal

**Remus**

Remus Lupin wouldn't claim to be the best man, a good man, or even really normal on certain days of the year. But he would say that he is at least an honest one. He prides himself in trying his best to do what is right, fair, and what was in his friend's best interest. This just so happens to be one of those times that he has to be blunter with it. Hit him over the head with it if need be, and that fact he needs to beat in is that Sirius really needs to think more, borderline, thinking of calling him an idiot but doesn't want to be too rude about it.

“Let me get this straight. Lupin pinches his nose. “You need me to help clean up fish guts because Morte showed up for a few hours and fed the cats what seemed like hundreds of Goldfish.” 

Sirius rubs his head. “Yes, I suppose.” 

Remus can already see the mess, and he has yet to even move from his small apartment sofa chair. Little tiny bones all over the place and half-eaten fish. Harry had been very upset about the rat bits that he had found the last time. Though he did not say that he was going to fight Morte over it, just ask them not to bring anything like that over again. Rats and Fish were different, he would give her that. 

“How did she even get in?" He sighs deeply, “I thought that the wards prevented that sort of thing, and more importantly wasn’t it just Severus that was cat sitting?” 

He fails to see how this would involve Sirius as the man did not live in that house again, and if Motre made a mess then it was really Severus that had to deal with it. 

“I went there with him.” Sirius shrugs like it isn’t a big deal and perhaps it's not. But he can not help but feel it is a little odd that the two of them have become good friends when in school they were so antagonistic to each other.

Remus knows for a fact that they had been downright awful to Severus. Sure the man had given back as bad as he had gotten, they were right that he was slipping down a dark path, but that didn't make it right. Not at all, even after the things, he said to Lily. It seems that Sirius has been able to look past that, which is amazing he had not thought in his friend to do so. Remus is trying to, still trying to. He has spent very little time with Severus since their school days. He is a very bittered, grieving man. He only seems to come alive when he is not bothered by hundreds of students. He can not say that he likes him, nor wants to be around him. Severus seemed to have felt the same.

“Why would you let Morte in?” He sighs deeply already feeling like he is going to agree to help clean up the mess, it's because Sirius still can make puppy eyes even if he is not a dog currently. 

“No she sort of just appeared. Harry claims she does that a lot. I am seriously thinking of telling Harry to update the wards so that can no longer happen. Not that I think that Morte wants to take anything. She seems perfectly content with the cats and making conversation. Like some strange neighbor that stops by for sugar but stays an hour.” 

“And making a mess and leaving it.” Remus feels tired, he has never met Morte but he has heard enough stories to know that he's just glad they don't consider him to be a friend. 

“Pretty much.” He shrugged, reminding Remus so very much of their school days. Even if Sirius has matured greatly there were still some very childish aspects about him. 

“I do know some blasting charms that might be of some help.” Remus finally just agrees because it would be nice to spend time with the other. 

“Oh thank Godric. I told Severus that I would fix it while he handled taking one of them to the vet.”

“Vet?” Remus blinked. 

Sirius leaned a little back against the sofa. He looks a little more tired than he was seconds ago. “It's weird but one seemed to be not breathing like it swallowed the fish wrong, and it wasn’t bothered by the fact. Severus is worried that it might have got a bone caught in there still even though it seems more or less fine now. The last thing I want is to have one of them hurt on our watch.”

“Which cat?” Remus does find it a bit strange, but even if he tends not to exaggerate Sirius might be in this case just a little.

“Voldie.” Sirius grimaces. 

“The hairless, evil one incarnate,” Remus remembers his brief encounter with the creature. It had clawed him for no reason other than it apparently thought it could get away with it. 

“And Harry's apparent favorite. “ Sirius sighs out. “I hate that one, everyone hates that one, but Harry.” 

“Right.” Remus rubbed his eye. “You owe me for this one.”

He stood and made his way to get his umbrella as it had been raining off and on. He might need it after this quick clean up.

“I mean you could let me help pay for the wolfbane potions for you and we could call it even.” His friend smiles cheekily before moving to get up. “I might be able to convince old Severus to brew some.” 

“You two are spending a lot of time together.” Remus redirects the conversation. “Cat sitting with Severus, and going on outings.” 

“Not really.” Sirius shifts not longer as comfortable where the conversation has gone. 

“No, you really are.” Remus pointed out. “I think that he takes weekends off to see you sometimes.” 

“And you would know that because?” Sirius raises a brow, slipping on his shoes so that they can leave. 

“Because I was hired as the Muggle culture teacher last fall remember?” Remus smiled a small smile. It wasn’t much pay but it was a fairly decent amount. He could buy his potions, have a safe place to transform, and buy the basics of what he needed. If he did manage to keep this job in a few years he would be making quite a bit more.

“Oh right. I spent most of the fall in Portugal or maybe it was the Bahamas. I went all over.” Sirius deflects as they side apparate to the old house. 

Remus waits until his insides have settled before speaking. “I was rather impressed by your long list of countries and the postcards that you sent. How is it that you are affording all this spending?”

“I sold some of the homes and a lot of the things that were in them.” Sirius straightens up a little. He looks to be trying to seem more alright then he is. Remus can sense him ready to be on the defense if need be. “There is too much money to ever spend. Don’t give me that look, Old Snively has been giving me the same one. I don’t intend to do this forever. I will get a job or settle somewhere. I just have not felt up to it. There were so many years I couldn’t move and spending too long in one place is almost physically painful.”

“Did you take my advice?” Remus waits for him to open the door for him. He feels the brush of wards stronger than the previous ones that he had walked through the last time that he was over. 

“What's going to see a shrink?” Sirius makes a face at the thought. 

“A mental health professional.” He corrects, nicely. “And I really think it would help Sirius you get fidgety and I know that you're still having nightmares. It would help I am certain of it.” 

“I have considered it.” Sirius relents. “But it's not like I know a good one to go to. I have to be positive that they are going to be discreet about the visits. I don’t need that plastered in the papers. There is already enough talk as it is.” 

“Talk about?” Remus enters the home and grimaces at the mess that is the living room. The cats really had made a royal mess of the place. He supposes though that it's no worse in some ways than the classrooms he has helped clean. Transfigurations sometimes went wrong and the new professor was not nearly as skilled as Macgunigal.

“People are constantly talking. It’s always put in gossip rags what Harry and Tom are up to. Things that shouldn’t impact them are brought into things just because it could be a negative thing, influence really. I’m just one of those things. The media is a bunch of harpies.”

“Getting help shouldn’t be seen as a negative thing, nor should be asking for it.” Remus puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“It shouldn’t be, but it feels that way. Besides I wouldn’t even know where to start.” Sirius relaxes just a little into that hold. 

“I can help you look into places,” Remus promises. 

"Sure." Sirius doesn't commit to it nor all-out deny it so at least its a start.

They clean the mess, it takes a very long time as Harry and Tom’s cats seem to have a fascination with him and like to mess with Sirius. Remus wonders if they are able to sense if he can become a dog or if they just like to bother him because he shows a very reluctant tolerance of their presence. Some time during helping themselves to a little of the imported tea Severus shows back up. He glances at Remus with slight weariness. He has never been real comfortable around him since the incident when they were kids. It's almost hard to forgive Sirius for tricking the other to go there. He very well could have killed the man, or his secret could have been revealed. He doesn’t know where he would be without his education. Remus can dislike Dumbledore as much as he wants now, but he has to be a little grateful to the old man for allowing him to attend school, and for preparing a place for him to have transformations safely. He was once a good man, Remus wonders whatever happened to that side of him.

“Remus.”

“Severus.” He greets just about as nicely.

“Oh come on, Severus you know that Remus can’t transform and bite you on a day that is not a full moon. It was my fault for even thinking it would make a good lesson for you to mind your own business when we were kids.” He says it near light-hearted, but there is that refraction in his voice that speaks of his regrets. 

Severus wrinkles his nose. “If you had to serve during the last war, you would know that it's not Remus necessary that makes me fear them.”

Yes, Greyback and the other werewolves were something to definitely fear. Remus was a product of such savageness taking place. It’s sometimes easy to forget that Severus was one of Voldemort’s closest. Yes, he was a spy for them, but he had to have done and seen things that were unforgivable. 

There is uncomfortable silence around them. He coughs to clear the air. “Is Voldie alright? I heard that he might have choked and got a bone stuck in his throat.”

“He is fine all things considered. No lasting damage at the very least. Some would say that it's a miracle that the thing is alive.” Snape gave a swift replay. 

“Good things cats have 9 lives.” Sirius lets out a deep breath of relief. “I would hate to have to explain why Harry’s favorite wasn’t here when he returned.” 

“Glad you would be the one explaining, considering I was the one supposedly watching them. It's nice to see you willing to take responsibility for once.” Severus seems pleased by that. 

“Come off it. I have taken responsibility often enough, you know that. I apologize I think the most out of the both of us.” 

Severus scuffs and heads back out towards the living room. 

While things had gone civil enough there was still slight tension in the air. Remus wasn’t sure if it would ever fully go away or if things could really mend between all of them. 

“He's usually a little better than this,” Sirius mutters. 

“It's probably just me being here. And the mess with Voldie that has him so on edge.” Remus tries to soothe. 

“Possibly.” Sirius still is frowning deeply. “He just seems a little off since Morte visited and Tom approached him about trying to put together a proposal.”

“A proposal?” Remus blinked. 

“Harry and Marvolo went on a trip and Marvolo seemed very set on proposing during it. I don’t think Severus is that pleased with the idea of it.”

“I can’t blame him.” Remus looked at the light-colored tea in his cup. He knows that both boys are close, they really aren’t boys anymore but they are so young. Too young really to make that sort of commitment. 

“You don’t think they will make it either?” Sirius shook his head. “I believe in them. They are young but so were James and Lily. You can’t tell me that they wouldn’t have made it.”

Remus feels that sadness creep back in at the thought of his close friends that were no longer with them. “That was different.” He says after a beat. “There was a war going on. None of us knew that we would make it to another day. I think they would have made it. We know they loved each other.” His throat tightened. “They haven’t known enough people, they haven’t really been truly out in the world. They are still very dependent on each other and I’m still not convinced that it's all that healthy.” 

“Who are we to tell them what they feel isn’t right.” Sirius defends. “Yes there are issues with it, but they have gotten much better. Tom is friends with that Granger girl that he works with, he has outings outside of work. Harry is much the same. He spends more time with others. They deserve to be happy, and if they can bring that to each other and help each other grow, who are we to criticize it?"

Remus decides to let it drop for now, but he doesn’t trust Marvolo as much as Sirius does. He has seen a lot of characteristics that surface in their few meetings that he doesn’t like. While Marvolo is being more social he still monopolizes Harry’s time, has a jealous streak a mile wide, and is controlling in nearly all the relationships that he has. Remus can’t tell if the clinginess is because of the incident with Dumbledore, Harry’s innate ability to find trouble, or if it's always been there. The overprotective nature had its certain drawbacks, the codependency was scary, and Marvolo’s anger was always a storm that was waiting to one day really cause damage. He doesn’t approve one bit of this marriage. It's not like he has the right to really fight on the idea. He doesn't really have a leg to stand on. He had given up most of that right when he had listened to what Dumbledore thought was best for Harry and backed off enough to allow him to live with the Dursleys. still, even with his mistakes, he can not help but worry. Marvolo doesn’t feel like the right pick, but he is sure that Harry wouldn't want to hear that nor Sirius. Severus seems to be the only other person with a bit of sense.


	7. Beliefs

**Draco**

Draco Malfoy has recently graduated Hogwarts. He was second in his class only just under 'the brightest witch of their age'. Not that it mattered, second was no place for a Malfoy at least that was what his father believed. It was not as if Draco did not try. He studied long hours, subjected himself to internships, sports, and private lessons to try and get ahead. But none of it had mattered at the end of it all. Granger had come out on top, Head girl, perfect Os and all. And it was there for that reason, his father thought that it was an embarrassment. Never mind that a girl had beat him, but one that was a Mud-blood of all things. Someone that should not have had the magical talent born into her. It was expected that he would do better than what he had. Just like it was expected of him to start seeking someone to get engaged to. A pureblood from a respected family to carry on the line. His father believed that he would find his wife with the Greengrass family or through the Parkinsons. Love did not matter, only building what would be a legacy to continue, that was the expectation and the belief. 

There were a lot of things that his father believed and had tried to instill in him from an early age, Slytherin had been a house that just echoed the ideas and ideals. However, there were things that even he had to face in the end. Especially with the way that Potter and Gaunt of all people were pushing things forward. Blood and the trying to keep the bloodlines 'pure' had its drawbacks. 

Draco knew that most families had an understanding of this, it was why there were marriages only between second or even more distant cousins. There were many little side effects that caused all sorts of misfortunes. One was issues with fertility. His mother had explained that she had been unable despite her best efforts to give him the sibling that he had so wanted when he was little, a playmate to help fill the void in the very large Mansion. Madness was a side effect most prominent by the inbreeding of the Blacks. His mother did not show signs of it, but his Aunt even before Voldemort had, at least according to the few people that would dare to talk about such subject matter. He had seen some of the other more physical and noticeable drawbacks every time that he had to look at Pansy and her pug face, or the rather slow processing power of Crabbe and Goyle. 

Genetics was what the Muggles called it, and it was the very thing that Gaunt was using as the basis to push his agendas. There was no such thing as a Half-blood, Mudblood, or Pureblood. They were very convincing with their evidence brought forward. The tracing of the Magical gene so to speak through the population and how it could lay dormant in some. Squibs being the carriers that brought magical lines into the Muggle world. His father and a few others were not convinced. They were still clinging to the old ways. Trying very hard to make themselves seem very important by blood status and heritage alone.

Draco knew that his history was something to be proud of. He was from a long line of very successful businessmen. His father and his father before him, all the way down the line were very good at reading the markets investing where there was money to be had. They had stocks and hands in making many different businesses. He had to learn how to manage it all. He had been of course trained since he was able to do the bare minimum of math some of the basics. He had been groomed all of his life to be the perfect heir in all aspects. Except if he kept digging, Draco knew that their fortune had started because they had dealt with Muggles. He had even found a diary of his great, great, great grandfather thinking about tying himself through marriage to the royal families. Blood had not mattered up until perhaps a few centuries ago. No, what had mattered before that was power, legacy, and securing the best for the next generation. Admirable ambitions and Draco had taken them to heart, as there was nothing more important to him than family. He however can not help but wonder when the shift had happened, when had they truly decided politically it was best to pretend to have never associated. 

Which of course had led him into wondering and questioning. And questions that went this way, were not a very good thing to have. Because as he started pulling at that thread, that unescapable thread that kept begging him to see the end of it, to figure it all out, to detangle it, and have the truth be bare in front of him had started to lead to some rather sickening conclusions. Yes, and it brought it all back to Genetics and Evolution. 

Salizar bless him if anyone were to know that he was studying the stuff, but it was a rather simple principle. It had been observed in all sorts of populations both by Magical Ecologists and Muggle ones. Take a small population, place pressure upon it, stresses, and it has to adapt or go extinct. Small populations had to be regulated, controlled, and even then there were ways in which the population would still shrink with inbreeding and the recycling of genes that no longer could or would be all that effective against all the other elements it could be exposed to. The correct populations of animals were just over 2,500 to be endangered or if the population in the last 2 generations had decreased by at least 20%, and any more than that extremely endangered. It was not a hard model to then apply to the Witch and Wizard population of the world. They had been declining since the middle ages, burnings, and hunts had not been helpful. Voldemort and Grindelwald had only served to even more thin the herd erasing some of the old families clear off the map. 

And how did select populations fix declining issues? Outbreeding, they brought new blood into the populations, new genes. In essence, they needed to bring in Muggles or Muggleborns at the very least to freshen up the pool. The exact opposite of what his family and those like them preached. Gaunt wanted to put tight regulations on such things to try and make outbreeding seem safer or to encourage that they keep their world hidden but ready to face the reality of when they could no longer hide. He has brought up events that Draco knew very little about, only that it had proved at least to people like his father and grandfather the savageness of Muggles. But they are now faced with the reality that Muggles are getting stronger. If he was told a year ago by someone that there were things that floated in the sky that could spy on people, or that there were buttons that held explosions that were one press away from destroying the world. He would have laughed, especially if they were suggested to have come from Muggles that made small and complex trinkets to solve their problems instead of short and swift spells. 

He isn't laughing anymore. Not with the books that he had been borrowing discretely from their world. Draco is more concerned than ever for what is to happen when Magic is discovered. Fire is one thing, burnings, and hangings were in the same genre, but guns are another. He only knows a few people that might have strong enough shielding charms to block such heavy fire. Hundreds of bullets in seconds... bombs that can take out skyscrapers, and satellites that can track a person around the world. It's all horrifying and he finds that what happens perhaps in the next few decades in their Ministry will play a critical role in deciding their fates. He knows that the best way to try and prepare is to use connections. He had never been interested in politics per say, his father only dabbles in them. It is more fitting for a Malfoy to be on the sidelines than the one in charge. They influenced the people that could be discarded if need be. But he had a strong calling to try and be of use. 

He is just not exactly sure if his newer understanding of things would really go over that well. He might know that mixing of blood is probably the only thing that is to save the Endangered Magical population, but he can't ever see himself marrying a muggle. He can see a Half-blood or possibly dare he say it a well-mannered Mudblood? No, he really can't imagine meeting one of those and falling in love, but he can at least respect that before he lost his marbles that Dumbledore was a Half-blood, Harry Potter the magical savior was a Half-blood, and this Lord Gaunt that had beaten Dumbledore was a half-blood as well. He wasn't sure what Grindelwald was but he was willing to put his money on half-blood and hell even Voldemort with his untraceable line and popping out of nowhere could have been a half-blood. 

Point being entirely that he might be able to get away with not marrying into something that he doesn't wish to if he played his cards right. And if he can convince his parents of nothing else than something needed to be done and some tighter regulations around Muggles imposed because of their probable danger he just might save himself from being blasted off the family tree. Even with that hanging over his head as a possibility, he really can not see his mother no matter what he did having the ability in her heart to disown him. His father might love him, but he isn't foolish enough to think that he could 'run wild' with his thinking and not have any consequences. He's still not entirely sure of everything. Genes are confusing and there still could be some truth to power lying in 'blood' but he knows that without diversity that they are as good as going extinct.

All this starts to hit ahead as the summer winds down. His questions are eating him alive and he has no one to talk to about it. No one to ask his remaining questions. It's a typical evening, but there is an odd silence. The silence that has been brought by mail. Usually, notes or mail is not enough to cause this sort of tension in the air. So needless to say he is very perplexed by a Wedding invite that has shown up at the dinner table. It's to the Malfoy family as a whole, but his mother is staring at the envelope as though it is some sort of bad omen even though it's red and looks fairly inviting with the very neat black script along the top. 

"Who's it from." He finally just breaks the silence at the table. 

"It's from Harry Potter." His mother's grip on her silverware tightens. "He has decided to invite us to his wedding."

He blinks. "Harry Potter." He repeats himself and he can not help it. The boy who lived had been making a name for himself in pretty much opposition to what his father and most pureblood families would politically be into.

"Yes," his father drawls, "he is under the impression that we are related to him." 

"We are in a way, dear." His mother helpfully supplies. 

"Yes but rather distantly."

"Did he give us a reason for inviting us?" Draco asks cautiously, he can already tell that his father is on edge by the very subject. 

"He did, apparently." His father draws out apparently, to show his disbelief and disgust. "he wants to reconnect with family. He believes that your mother would want to reconnect with her disowned sister and her cousin Sirius."

He stops himself from doing anything other than nodding. His mother though looks like she wants to fight with her husband about the way that he has phrased his sentence. She must still love her sister and Draco can only imagine that separation. The gnawing questions keep clawing at his insides... the possible purpose for himself and the powerful opportunities that it presented burning hot. If he could talk to Gaunt about his research and his reasoning it might help settle it all. 

"So are we going?" He finally asks. His father takes a sip of his wine and seems to mull it over, but before he can give his verdict that as long as Draco lives under his roof would be law. He decides to make a small suggestion about it. "I think that we should. Lord Gaunt has made many movies politically that some would say places him on the path to minister. His soon to be husband Potter is considered not only to be the boy who lived but to be of someone to note that the public loves. He has done a great number of charity events. It would be possibly considered rude to not at least attend the ceremony and send a gift." 

He waits patiently trying not to sound too eager. 

"It would probably be a good opportunity, Lucius, to show some favor towards the Muggle-borns as purebloods are becoming less and less the majority vote." His mother tactfully adds on. 

His father though still does not look convinced. "We'll see." He gives it at least a possible maybe, which is better than what Draco had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this brings me to the important reveal that there is a sequel planned for The Red Cobblestone Road. I don't have a title yet but have started drafts for the first chapter and picks up towards the cluster of all the shorts and where the Epilogue ends. Hope to see you all there. 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Dawn


End file.
